


Rewritten

by Starlightt24



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Betty Cooper has no emotions, Blood and Violence, F/M, Jughead didn't go back and change his novel, Murderers, Serial Killers, basically the core three losing their mind, bughead and jarchie, he made it even more fucked up, serial Killer Betty and Archie and Jughead, they love each other but kill together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:22:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24198907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starlightt24/pseuds/Starlightt24
Summary: "Relax, Jug." a familiar voice murmured in his ear, lips scathing the skin of his neck. Jughead shivered, almost falling into the embrace. But he snapped out of it quickly, struggling in Archie's bulging arms. "What the hell are you doing? Get off me!"A whirlwind of blonde, definitely a ponytail, seemed to blur in the corner of his eye, and his heart sank. Betty. She was crouching on the ground, picking the laptop up, her giggles almost melodic. Seeing the two of them in school colours; blue and gold. Vixen and Bulldog. Just how he wrote them. Jughead panted, struggling in his best friend's viper grip which tightened around him, suffocating."Archie. Get the hell off me. Now."or: Jughead never went back and changed his story, and made Betty, Archie and himself even more fucked up, turning them into cold blooded killers.  But then he spills soda on his laptop, and those twisted versions of his best friend and girlfriend take over the real ones. It's up to him to rewrite them, giving them their humanity back.But what if they don't want it back?
Relationships: Archie Andrews & Betty Cooper & Jughead Jones, Archie Andrews/Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones, Jughead Jones/Archie Andrews/Betty Cooper
Comments: 15
Kudos: 44





	1. Clinical Feedback.

**Author's Note:**

> I just really fucking loved Archie, Betty and Jughead almost losing it in the finale, so i made them even more screwed up! :D Man, i love archie so much, but writing him as a complete psycho was really satisfying.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

* * *

_An insatiable hunger had woken up inside Archie Andrews. A need to fill that emptying void inside of him; a vicious darkness so evil, so twisted, that it had consumed him whole, a tumour eating up all logic. He was hungry. He was oh, so hungry. And even with his beloved in front of him, the girl Archie loved. It still wasn't enough to fill that cavern. That endless, decaying hole ripping his soul, his humanity, to shreds._

_But now there was a way to fill it. A way to feed the monster and satisfy his needs. Archie had been the boy next door. The spotless Bulldog shining in Blue and Gold, traipsing the corridors in his iconic Letterman. He was a knight in shining armour to any girl, a shoulder to cry on. Archie Andrews was Riverdale's saint. He was that one last glimmer of hope that the town could do better; that it was still capable of being good. If there was one person to change the town for the better, it would be Archie. But it was much too late. Like his fellow classmates, Archie had been traumatised far too many times to count. He'd nearly lost his life at the expense of protecting others, and the boy was just seventeen years old. Some say that the ones who are hurt the most will do the most hurting. They will make their victims feel the pain that they felt. The agony that plagued them. Because suddenly doing good wasn't enough. Playing by the rules no longer made him happy. It didn't satisfy that need to feel. Because Archie didn't feel much of anything. He lived his day-to day life in a bubble, reliving his darkest days._

_It was an endless nightmare. And he just wanted it to stop._

_For it all to stop._

_"Archie."_

_Her voice slithered inside of him, igniting that gnawing craving. Veronica Lodge had never looked so good in red. It was the type of red that brought out her eyes, painting her in glorious, rich crimson that Archie was almost hungry for. The girl peered at him through ribbons of crimson staining olive cheeks. It almost looked like her tears had turned to blood, and this was even more thrilling for him. Archie took a step back, admiring his handiwork. He pulled off the knock-off ghost face mask, unleashing red curls that bounced perfectly back into place. His Letterman stood out in the mellow light of the bunker, vivid gold and glittering blue in perfect contrast with deep cardinal drying on the sleeves. Archie could get anyone he wanted. He was the definition of perfection at its finest, inheriting his mother's crimson mane and his father's bold brown eyes, freckles dancing on cheeks made of porcelain. If you squinted, you might see Jason Blossom. Veronica Lodge was bent over in the wooden chair, her arms held strictly behind her. She was barefoot. After all, Betty and Jughead liked to take souvenirs._

_"Please." Veronica's voice was a soft whimper. She spoke through strands of her hair lying limp in wide green eyes; cascading raven. The girl was at the top of New York's elite. She was the it girl. The daughter of the mayor. And yet there she was, at the three's mercy. At her own boyfriend's mercy. Veronica was slumped. Her posture at first had been stiff as anger and pain radiated from her. But now she knew her fate at the hands of the kids she had put her trust in. Riverdale's very own Firefly kids._

_Betty Cooper stood triumphant. Whatever humanity the girl had, was gone. Her pale blue eyes only stared back at the girl, lips twisted with unbridled joy. Betty and Veronica were yin and yang. Vanilla and Chocolate. B & V. It was rather ironic that Betty wore her vixen uniform. It was starched white. Perfect. Like the girl used to be. Elizabeth Cooper was sunshine hair and sweet strawberry smiles. But those smiles had turned less genuine, until Betty only smiled at pain. At hurt. Her lips only twitched when someone else was being hurt. When someone else was being dragged through the momentous amount of agony she had wallowed in. So, the doll broke apart. Her bright smile became a grin, and cornflour blue eyes became nightmare fuel, glinting in the dim. The boy and girl next door had come together in the decaying months of their senior year to unleash their own bout of hell. _

_But of course, they were not the only ones standing in the bunker. Jughead Jones ad always been the boy on the outside of their inner circle. He was Archie's best friend, and had pined after Betty since they were toddlers. Maybe his very presence was a shadow over his friends, poisoning them slowly. Jughead had been the peace keeper, eager to make sure everyone got out alive. But the thing was, people didn't. They slipped through his fingers as easy as blood seeps down a plughole. Gone before he could reach out._

_Now, he was a different kind of broken. A broken that couldn't be fixed. His father was gone. His mother and sister were halfway across the country, and the only thing keeping him together were Betty and Archie, and then their little hobby._

_Jughead was silent. He stayed close to Betty's side, his lips on the shell of her ear, whispering sweet nothings, the things they were going to do when Veronica was gone. Every so often his lips would curve into a grin, when Archie ran his knife down the curve of Veronica's jawbone. He'd laugh with Betty, the two of them pressed together._

_Being the first one to remove her mask, Betty was eager to move things along. She took a step forwards, a smile dressing her lips. Her hair was no longer in the prim ponytail that was a staple of the Betty Cooper brand. Instead, it fell in gold waves on either side of her face. A halo if you like. Jughead followed in two steps. His arms were folded, dark eyes on the struggling girl. "Archie." He spoke up, regarding his friend with curiosity. "You're dragging this out for too long, dude. Just kill her."_

_Veronica came to life in that moment, a whirlwind of obsidian thrashing against the restraints. "No! Please, no! Why are you doing this to me?"_

_Betty's expression stayed passive. "Because you're going to tell, V." she said softly. "You're going to tell everyone about our dirty little secret."_

_Veronica let out a sharp breath. "You murdered him."_

_Jughead rolled his eyes. "It was necessary." he murmured, lips curving into a smile around the word. "Besides, you saw it, right? He fell on the knife."_

_"That's right, V." Betty hummed. She smiled dreamily. "He fell. And he died. And it was an accident."_

_Veronica lurched forwards in her chair, screeching. But it did not faze the Bulldog still standing motionless, staring at her. "You stabbed him! Oh god, you killed him and threw his body in the Sweetwater River like it was nothing!" she shrieked._

_"Archie." Jughead spoke. The tone demanded the attention of his best friend, his right hand man. "Get it over with, she'll talk."_

_"And we'll lose everything." Betty's voice was almost sing song. "We can kiss our college days goodbye."_

_Veronica stayed still. Staring. "You're monsters." she whimpered, blinking through the deluge of tears. Her gaze snapped to Archie. His fingers were turning white, wrapped around the blade of his favourite knife. The one he'd gutted Reggie with. They had taken turns with the Mantle boy. Betty and Jughead had shared his fun, braining the boy with a lead pipe. But Archie liked to get into the thick of it. The filthy, disgusting parts. He was fascinated about how human anatomy worked. He'd had his fun, of course. When Archie had finished, his hands were slicked crimson, brown eyes empty, but also wild and free and void of anything that had been innocence and youth. The very idea of opening his love up like Reggie, sent rivulets of pleasure zipping up and down his spine like fork lightning. Archie straightened slightly, coming to life in front of his accomplices._

_"Ronnie." His voice was so soft. So sweet. A lie. He ducked to her height and took her face in hands that had been so loving. That had caressed her. Archie blinked at the girl, his head cocking to the side like a golden retriever. Warm browns were innocent and childlike as he took her in, his gaze sweeping over her. "Do you love me, Veronica?"_

_The girl was quick to react. She jolted in the chair. "Yes! Of course I love you, Archie! It's you! It's always been you."_

_"Hmm." The boy caressed her cheek with the blade, and she whimpered. He only had to press the slightest amount of pressure before blood began to spill, and Archie's mouth split into a shark grin, greedy eyes chasing rivers of fresh crimson. "Do you really love me, Ronnie?" his tone was mocking now, a tragic ridicule of their relationship. Which used to mean something, of course it did. Archie Andrews had loved Veronica Lodge. He had loved her like Betty loved Jughead. Like Jughead loved his best friend. Like Veronica loved all of them. The four of them had been in a powder keg or three years, boiling away. And when it came to three of them snapping completely, leaving their sanity behind and enveloping themselves in their town's darkness, Veronica Lodge didn't enjoy it._

_And Betty loved her, of course she did. But nothing was stopping Betty Cooper from getting into Yale. Though part of her, a piece of her she was starting to embrace, was already plotting their next kill. When her hunger got bad again. When it begged to be fed. "Archie, please let me go." Veronica managed to stifle her sobs. "This isn't you." she knew it was. It had been for a while. Since Archie had watched, wide-eyed, as Betty slammed the lead pipe into Reggie's skull. When he didn't throw up like Veronica, or start screaming like Cheryl. When he just watched. And watched. And watched._

_That's what made them into something other than friends. The Betty, Archie and Jughead relationship just got a whole lot weirder. Why murder alone? Have your two favourite people by your side. A match, or rather trio, made in heaven. Or hell._

_Jughead was impatient. But then again, he always was. He needed to see blood run, like Betty. Like Archie. It was that hunger, that drive, that had put them where they were now. "Get it over with, Archie." said Jughead. "Either hurry up, or I'll do it."_

_He smirked slightly, head inclining. "Unless you're chicken, of course?"_

_Veronica went still. But her sobs didn't stop. They grew into sharp gasps for breath. Archie twisted in his friend's direction, eyes glowing. He tightened his grip on the knife, bringing it up to the light, studying the faded smear on the teeth. "Are you betting on that, Jug?"_

_"Course not." Jughead shrugged. "You have been playing with her for a while now, so I'm guessing..." the boy cocked his head. "You're too chicken to kill her."_

_Betty giggled. "Chicken." she repeated, in the exact childish tone of her eight-year-old self. She was positively thriving on the tension between the two of them. It was definitely something to take notice of. Since his best friend had lost his marbles, Jughead started to see Archie in a whole different light. Though did he act upon it? What was this feeling, anyway? He wasn't supposed to feel. He was supposed to be numb, and Betty Cooper was of course an exception. But those sensations that flittered through him when Betty touched him were very much alive when Archie shot him that wonderfully twisted shark grin, and the butterflies lying dormant in his stomach began to twitch._

_Archie pouted. "M' not a chicken." he said, before turning back to Veronica. Like Betty, he stood triumphant. And man, it felt good to power over a Lodge. A family that had ruined his life, dragging his innocence into the ground, and the catalysts to his crumbling. "You'll forgive me for this, right?" the boy nuzzled into her, pressing kisses down her neck, while the girl struggled and cried out, arching herself away from him. But Archie didn't stop his games. "Baby?" looking up at his girlfriend, there may have been just a hint of contempt for her. Love. His eyes were pools of brown, but Veronica Lodge might as well have been staring into a starless night. "Baby, you'll forgive me, right? I don't want to do this..." he trailed off. "But you just look so good. You're too much of a liability and if I'm honest? I kinda wanna see what your insides look like-"_

* * *

No. 

No. That line was not staying in. That line was the result of too much caffeine. Too much excitement, and not much logical thought. 

Jughead surprised himself with a laugh, before hitting back-space several times. That whole line had to go. "I kinda wanna see what your insides look like?" that was amateur writing at best. Plus, he didn't even like the Scream films. And the story looked like it was going that way. Leaning back, he stretched out on the worn leather couch. He had to blink several times to situate himself back in reality. He wasn't in the bunker with his girlfriend and best friend, about to murder their fourth member. He was in the student lounge. Though thank god for music. Other wise, the cluster of young Bulldogs watching Tik Tok's on the other side of the room, may have led to him losing his patience.

Jughead took a moment to read through his piece. The University of Iowa had demanded he send in a portfolio of his work. Which he didn't have. He had considered the book about Jason Blossom, the one he'd written two years ago. But it was more of a murder mystery. This time round, Jughead wanted to write something truly dark. Something twisted enough to catch eyes and raise eyebrows. His green eyes flicked from his laptop's screen and bounced around the lounge. His characters of course were based on the lives of his closest friends. Sure, they were over exaggerated. But to what extent? Riverdale itself was already a fucked up town, and Jughead and his friends were in the eye of the storm. The murder of Jason Blossom. They had solved it. The Black Hood was his girlfriend Betty Cooper's father. They had nearly lost their lives at the hands of Penelope Blossom, Riverdale's very own Cruella De Ville. And through it all, the four of them had stood strong against the darkness threatening to swallow them up. They had escaped with their sanity intact, clear headed enough to skip town for a better life. 

But the question was... what if they didn't? What if they gave into the darkness, revelling in it, instead of running away? What if Archie Andrews and Betty Cooper completely lost themselves and Jughead Jones dragged them further and further into oblivion? So far past saving. What if they painted their town in red, while growing closer? What if they found a hobby in killing their classmates? That was the plot of his novel. He'd keep their original names until he was perfecting his final draft, and then of course he'd change them. Jughead picked up the lukewarm coffee sitting on the table in front of him, and took a sip, enjoying the sweet taste. Turning his attention back to his laptop, he began to type once more, a sly smile beginning to curl on his lips. 

Though a familiar voice struck his ears,once more breaking his concentration.

He turned slightly in his chair, interest piqued. "What do you MEAN I can't print out five hundred pages, Miss Bell?"

Veronica. He could glimpse fraying blue and gold ribbons dangling from her ponytail, her shadow gracing the doorway. The Princess of Riverdale High, Hiram Lodge's darling little girl. "Do you want me to call my father? I'm sure he'd love to know that you're quite literally stopping me from sending in my college applications. Also, I see you let Reggie Mantle use half of the ink for his football scholarships? I wonder if Betty Cooper would accept a piece in the Blue and Gold about the blatant sexism in the office?"

Veronica was right, sure. But, God, she didn't have to bring her father into it.

"Miss Lodge, my humblest apologies. You may print as much as you'd like!" Came Miss Bell's squeaked response. The receptionist sounded like she was about to cry. Jughead had been lucky to stay on the girl's good side. Mostly. They were mutual friends. Perhaps even creeping towards becoming closer. But Jughead knew the only thing keeping them together was their love for Archie and Betty. The four of them were a strange love square, a clash of John Hughes stereotypes. But they fit. They worked well together. 

But of course, he would never be friends with a Princess, if it wasn't for his girlfriend's and best friend's infatuation for her. Other wise, Jughead was sure he'd hate her. But over the years, he'd found they shared things in common; a love for old style films and the famoux of the silver screen. So really, she wasn't that bad.

Today, however, she was getting on his last nerve, taking advantage of her obvious privilege which Veronica hadn't done a good job at hiding. She was rich. She had connections. Yeah, everyone knew. Jughead could practically sense her satisfied smile. 

"Thank you, Miss Bell. You've been very understanding."

Rolling his eyes, Jughead's fingers began to dance across the keyboard once more, Veronica's voice echoing in his ears. He was sure she was talking to him. A swift greeting, "Hey Jughead, how are you doing? How's the novel?"

"It's good." was his only reply. Veronica didn't stay around to pry further. With a nod and a smile, the girl was collapsing into the couch next to him, pulling out her books. 

"Hey Kevin!" Her voice trilled. "Do you have a spare pen? Mine's run out, and my god, if I don't finish this today, my father will surely try and drag me into his schemes and attempt to crown me as his Mafia Princess, his right hand daughter. Which.. no thanks!"

"Oh, sure! But can you give it me back? Reggie took my last one, and I have classes this..." Kevin's reply faded out slightly when Jughead corked his earbuds back in, cranking the volume right up, drowning the conversation blossoming around him. 

The end was in sight, and he had the perfect climax. 

* * *

_"Archie." Betty's voice dripped impatience. "If you really are too chicken, I'll do it." She started towards Veronica. The girl wasn't smiling, and yet her eyes were full of glee. "Give me the knife."_

_Jughead nodded with an eye roll. "He was fine with Reggie, but when it comes to Veronica, he loses his cool." a smile crawled onto his lips, teasing, eyes glinting. The boy stood at the redhead's side, his chin resting on Archie's shoulder. "Knew you couldn't do it." tutting, Jughead stepped back. "Betty? She is your BFF after all."_

_The blonde hummed. "That's right." she said. "Isn't that right, V?" she giggled. "Are you going to cry for daddy, hmm?"_

_"You're disgusting, Betty Cooper." the raven head whimpered. "You're a two-faced, evil bitch."_

_Betty shrugged. "Yeah, I guess." she smiled brightly. "But at least I know that." her smile disappeared. "At least I took notice of it, V. And you? You ran away from it. You actually pitied Reggie." she let out a choked laugh. "You cried for him!"_

_Veronica snarled, lurching forwards. "He was scared! We weren't supposed to go that far with Honey, and you know that! But you- her lip curled. "You enjoyed it." her eyes darted to Jughead, rather Carrie like. But she could only pray for super powers to save her now. "You two deserve each other," Veronica said through her teeth. "Like father like daughter, right Betty?"_

_It was supposed to hurt Betty. But she was passed being hurt. The words fell on her deaf ears, and all the girl really wanted to do was cut open Veronica's throat._

_"Good to know." Jughead chuckled, also ignoring the scathing comment. "Betty. Do it."_

_"No!" Veronica screamed. The realisation that she was not quite out of the woods yet, dawned in her expression. "No, please! Archie, please!" Gaping at her unmoving boyfriend, ruby lips still stuck out in disgust, something glimmered in Veronica Lodge's eyes. It was wishful thinking, but then again, she had him wrapped around her pinky for nearly three years. Her puppy dog at beck and call. Willing to sacrifice himself for her. He can't kill me. It was written all over her face, and her body slumped in relief. Twisting away from Betty and Jughead, Riverdale's Princess blinked up at her lover. "You're not like them." she whispered, shaking her head rapidly. "Archie, listen to me."_

_And he did. Archie's eyes flickered with a sense of understanding, and he looked at her. He really looked at her. Veronica Lodge covered in blood in front of him. His crimson queen. Her eyes full of pain and fear, blood still dribbling down her cheeks from the cuts he'd made. And for a moment it looked like Archie was tearing through the fog back into reality, bleeding from his trance-like state. But before he could reach for his good self who was still holding on, teetering on the edge, his eyes darkened. That fog returned. That sheen of nothing, that void, took over warm browns once more. He inclined his head slowly. If you were to really look at Archie, then. If you were in Veronica's position, you would know that you were fucked; to surrender your life at the mercy of your death being quick. His eyes narrowed, lips puckering into a mocking pout._

_"You don't love me." He whined._

_Veronica stared, lips unmoving for a moment, before she snapped out of it. "I do love you, Archie." she whispered. "I love you with everything I have!" a broken sob slips out, and he nuzzles closer to her. "You were the first boy for me. I've never looked back, Archiekins. I swear. It was always you, Archie." her voice dropped into a breathy sob, a sure sign that Veronica knew her time was running out. "Always you. Oh god. Always."_

_Nodding slowly, he hummed, capturing her lips in a soft kiss. She leaned into it, desperately, kissing back, enveloping herself in everything that was Archie._

_"Pity." he murmured into her lips, before pulling away, that smile still pricking on lips stained scarlet with her blood. "Pity, pity, pity." with a stoic expression and quick hand movements, Archie drew the knife across the girl's throat, eliciting a gurgled shriek from the girl, whose beautiful blue eyes shot open, lips parting._

_"I-"_

_"You..?" Archie beckoned her to continue, eyes shining. "Speak up, Ronnie."_

_But the damage was already done. the Bulldog didn't move, only watching slithers of crimson begin to rain down smooth, olive skin. The blood ran fast, spilling from the girl, where the light had faded in her eyes. Her head tipped back, exposing the gutter of her savaged throat, raven hair cascading. Riverdale's elite Princess no more._

_"Pity." Archie said. "Pity, pity, pity."_

_He didn't stop saying the words until Betty and Jughead came to stand either side of him, and he leaned into them both, holding, almost cradling them close. "Oh, well," Jughead replied with a shrug, turning his head to the side, pressing his lips to the nape of Archie's neck before he roughly grabbed a handful of red curled, yanking his head back. He didn't care if he was hurting Archie, didn't show concern at the hiss of pain that elicited from the boy's lips, because he knew that it was a facade, an act. Jughead merely swallowed the sound by pressing his lips hungrily against Archie's._

_It was supposed to be a one time thing, elicited by their latest kill. He barely felt anything. Especially when it was instigated by him._

_"Looks like you're not chicken after all?"_

_Betty nuzzled into the raven head, giggling. "It's beautiful, Archie."_

_It really was. To the three of them, Veronica was more canvas than human being. The blood painting her under the mellow light of the bunker was eye catching to say the least. Slithers of scarlet ran down deep olive skin, pooling underneath her. She was an expanse of colours with black and red domineering, a delicious mixture drowning their fourth member. The redhead broke out into a grin, and it was enough. It was enough to seal the deal and put a label on whatever this was between the three of them. Jughead studied his best friend, his eyes dancing between warm browns and Betty's sparkling blues._

_Now that Veronica Lodge was dead, things were different. Archie no longer had a stranglehold around his neck. He wasn't tied down to such a toxic, toxic family._

_"Who's next?" Betty's lips were on the shell of his ear, before moving to his neck, nibbling along flushed skin. "Tell me, Juggie. Tell me who's next."_

_"Mmm." Archie murmured in agreement. "Tell us, Jug."_

_He already knew who was next, already plotting out her demise in her head, picking out the weapon they would use, and if they would have time so Archie could have his fun._

_The kiss was supposed to be a one-time thing. It was them revelling in what they'd done, two kids who had snapped, entangled in the same web of sanity. Jughead wasn't sure when it started. He'd been sure he had been wrapped around Betty, the two of them giggling excitedly, gushing their twisted endgame for Veronica's corpse. But guided by the bouncing blonde, Jughead found himself inches from his best friend. Betty was still there. Her hand was on his back, pushing them together. Jughead wasn't the one to instigate it, but he didn't hate it. He didn't hate it when Archie cocked his head to the side, that shark smile disappearing for a moment, making way for something else. The boy's hands slick with Veronica's blood were cradling his face, and Archie was breathing heavily. And he couldn't breathe. Ever since Jughead had lost his mind, he'd lost any sense of feeling. Except when he was killing. When Betty pleasured him. But for the first time, it was Archie. His best friend was the one who had stolen his breath before capturing his lips in a kiss so soft, so sweet, the taste of pocket change tinging the redhead's lips. Jughead almost choked on the taste, but swallowed it, relishing in the taste. The spike in his throat. Combined with Archie's lips on his, it was heaven._

_Ronnie's blood. So, so wrong. But also, so right. It heightened the experience._

_It wasn't just a kiss, he told himself. Archie was giving himself to him, surrendering his mind and soul, pledging himself as Jughead's right hand. The muscle._

_Betty's hands were warm on his cheeks, brushing his forehead. They were freshly wet, dripping. God. It was perfect. Jughead grinned into the kiss with Archie, reaching out and grabbing the squeaking blonde, coaxing her to them. The girl tugged him from Archie, wrapping her arms around her boyfriend as she claimed him once more as hers._

_Always hers._

_Suddenly, they were kissing, and the world was imploding inside Jughead's mind. He lost all sense of where he was, of Betty's giggles. Though he could feel her hands pawing at him. Betty and Archie were suffocating, their distinct smells choking him. Archie's heavy musk, dark chocolate, Betty's sweet strawberry shampoo and mango perfume. Betty was deepening the kiss, the redhead draped over the two of them, and they were was so warm, so sweet, so soft. The three of them felt so good together in that moment._

_Jughead wondered, straying thoughts muttering in the back of his head. Could this work? Could they not just be friends, but something more?_

_"Cheryl." He gasped out, when Betty released his lips, this time bleeding into Archie. The two of them were vivid red and golden blonde blending perfectly. Jughead had never imagined them together. Not before. Not when he had his mind. But seeing them, stained scarlet, laughing into each other's embrace, pawing hands painting each other further red. His best friend and his girlfriend had never looked so good._

_"Cheryl, of course." He said, lips splitting into a smile so bright, so unlike Jughead Jones. The shadow that had haunted him for three years, that vicious dark side he refused to succumb to, was awake. The two of him turned to him, gasping, laughing, staring at him with adoration. Jughead nodded in confirmation, before bending down and picking up the knife Archie had dropped. Studying the blade, he swept his finger down the teeth of teeth. The skin opened up, pooling down his palm. He took no notice however, instead going to stand in front of Veronica, wrinkling his nose as he held out the knife._

_"Arch." He said. "Get on with it before she starts to smell."_

_The redhead was at his side in seconds, taking the knife. And in two sweeping flashes, not even the blink of an eye, he was plunging the knife into Veronica's chest, over and over, while Betty laughed. And he laughed. It was funny. It was so, so funny._

_Archie wasn't laughing. He stayed completely silent, his hands pawing at the cavern in the girl's chest, opening her up further and further, Betty's squeaks of joy motivating him to go faster._

_The blonde didn't waste time. She was there too with Archie, getting her hands wet, staining her Vixen skirt. The Vixen and the Varsity jock. Jughead studied them, watched Archie smear his Letterman scarlet, while Betty took the knife and began to mutilate the fallen Princess. Jughead would join in, but he'd get his hands dirty._

_So he watched them. And when they were done, he was smiling in satisfaction, taking in his partners in crime. They stared back at him with wonderfully blank eyes._

_"Cheryl." He said. "She knows too much."_

_"She's cracking." Betty nodded. "I just know it."_

_Jughead hummed. "True. Which is why it needs to be done fast. Archie? How big is the jalopy's trunk? Is there room for a five foot something HBIC?" he gestured to Betty. "We can't use Betty's, since Veronica is probably is going to make a mess."_

_Betty pouted, her eyes darkening. Archie joined her side, leaning his head on the girl's shoulder. Both of them were seeping cardinal. "You let us play with her Juggie."_

_"Uh-huh." Archie mocked Betty's voice. "I thought you said I could have my fun."_

_"I did. But I also said be clean." his gaze snapped to the mutilated girl still tied to the chair. "That's not my definition of clean, guys."_

_The redhead chuckled. The amount of red covering him was perfect in contrast to his hair, an inferno of curls Jughead wanted to run his hands through._

_"is this your definition of clean?" Archie's voice was low. Husky. His eyes were open, but there was nothing these. No light. Just the void. But it was better like that. Archie's eyes used to be full of pain and anger. He was so much more beautiful when he wasn't feeling or thinking. He was blessed for losing his sanity._

_Before Jughead could react, the boy was grabbing him by the collar and pulling him into his lips once more. But this time he was more forceful, his grip tightening on Jug's damp curls, pawing hands going to his shoulders, his chest, before entwining around his neck._

_"Jug?" Archie murmured into the kiss, and he was breathless, stiff in the redhead's snake like grasp._

_"Mmm?"_

_His friend's grip tightened, fingernails digging into the skin of his neck. Jughead was positive that he called the shots, that he was the leader of their little group. But Archie's grip was possessive, claiming him. He was suddenly the redhead's bitch._

_"Betty and I do what we want." Archie said in a low growl. "If we want to slice someone up, you don't say a damn thing. Understand Juggie?"_

_Before he could speak, Betty's lips were ghosting his neck, her breath hot, sending tingles down his spine. "He said," she bit him. Hard. Playing with the skin like a savage. "You get it, right baby?"_

_"Of course." Jughead found himself saying, surrendering to them, allowing Betty to play with the buttons of his jeans and coaxing Archie into an embrace which would seal the-_

* * *

"Hey Jug!" 

Real Archie's voice rang out, yanking Jughead from the story. But knowing what he was writing, his cheeks went red hot, and it took several disorienting seconds to remember how to close Microsoft Word. Jughead nearly gave himself whiplash when he looked up from his laptop, glimpsing his best friend barrelling towards him like a freight train. The student lounge had gotten busier while he'd writing. Veronica was gone, but her books were still there. Along with a half eaten bagel. Though Jughead's mind was still in the bunker, with a high school body count and his best friend and girlfriend, who he'd definitely written darker than intended. Shaking his head, Jughead focused on the real world. Archie Andrews looked a hell of a lot less interesting when he wasn't covered in blood. The second the thought crossed his mind, Jughead chased it away automatically. 

As usual, he was bathed in the school colours, mellow gold and velvet blue. A bulldog through and through. The boy was damp, probably from gym; rich red strands of hair plastered to his forehead, pasty skin still glistening perspiration. His Letterman slipped off his shoulders at an awkward angle, and when Jughead really looked properly, he realised Archie's shirt was inside out. His heart fluttered. Of course it was. 

After being enveloped in his story for hours, it was almost jarring to see there were no blood stains. No hands slick with crimson, or the dead eyes and shark grin. It was just Archie. Real Archie. Jughead let out a breath, but his cheeks were still an inferno, his mind backtracking what he'd wrote. "Hey." he managed to say, with what he hoped was a smile. He didn't think it was possible, but his cheeks burned brighter. Letting out a breath, Jughead swiped his hand across his forehead. Was he getting a fever?

The boy had his usual boyish smile, brown eyes warm, twinkling with the kind of positivity Jughead could only dream of having. The redhead's lip curled slightly, brow raising. "You okay bro?"

"Yeah, just tired." he lied. "I thought you had class?" 

Archie slumped down next to him. He pulled a can of Coke out of his backpack, cracking it open with a satisfying hiss, taking a long sip. Jughead didn't think the situation could get any more awkward, before the redhead pressed the icy can to his forehead, and his chest tightened, his stomach doing a 180.

"I have a free period," Archie said. "Which I'm going to spend napping. I was writing songs all night last night, dude. I swear I only had like an hours sleep-" The boy jumped into an rant about insomnia and how unfair Coach Clayton was being in gym, while Jughead struggled to subtly push the laptop as far away from an oblivious Archie as possible. He'd minimised the document, but his stomach was still curling with anxiety. He really hoped he didn't look as flustered as he felt. Archie set the soda down and leaned back, tipping his head, before his brown eyes rolled over to him. "How's the novel going?" 

Another slight push. Jughead's finger dug into the dense sides of his Macbook, his heart racing. "It's going fine."

The boy cocked his head. "Are you sure you're okay?" Archie sat up properly, regarding him with curious eyes. "You're bright red, bro. Like tomato red."

Red. Jughead couldn't help thinking of how he'd wrote Veronica Lodge's brutal death; the crimson queen, he'd called her. As her boyfriend sliced open her throat. 

His mouth went dry. "It's boiling in here." he said, trying to smile. But he and Archie had been friends since kindergarten. The boy knew when he was lying. "Are you blushing?" a slow smile crept onto Archie's lips. "Wait, are you writing, like, porn? But book porn?"

It was suddenly incredibly hard to swallow. Though somehow Jughead managed it, spluttering out a laugh. "Wow, Archie." though his voice was definitely shaking. "You mean smut? No. I don't write stuff like that. It's a Crime thriller, if you must know."

"Really?" Archie's smile grew. "Can I read it?"

"No." Jughead said, far too quickly. "It's a work in progress, and my submission for college." And yet as he said those words, he was 100% the story was either being dramatically edited, or deleted completely. "Not even Betty is allowed a peek."

The boy rolled his eyes. "Oh come on, dude! I'm like your best friend, I can give you clinical feedback!" Before he could stop the boy, Archie was leaning over and grabbing for the laptop. Though Jughead was fast, the scenes in his novel flashing vividly in his mind. He snatched the laptop, yanking it from the redhead's clumsy grasp. 

"It's critical feedback, Arch. And aren't you failing English?"

Archie laughed. "So? I like reading your stuff, Jug. Remember when we were kids, and you told me and Betty stories while we cloud watched?"

That took Jughead off guard. He didn't think Archie remembered a memory he'd kept close to his heart for so many years. "Yes, but that was different. This is real fiction."

The boy's eyebrows furrowed. "So you're serious about nobody reading it until you're done?"

"Yes." He said, exasperated. 

Archie's grip loosened, and Jughead finally managed to take back his laptop. "Huh." He shrugged. "If you say so, I guess? But let me read when you're done, okay?" 

"Sure." Jughead gasped out, catching his breath. He set the Macbook down, at exactly the same moment as Archie reached for the can of soda. It was inevitable what was going to happen, and Jughead could already see it. Archie's arm knocked into the can, which fell back, in what looked like slow motion, spilling its fizzing contents all over the laptop.

Both boys seemed to be locked into a state of shock, before Archie dived to his feet with a hiss. "Oh crap! Jug, I'm so sorry! Let me grab some paper towels."

Jughead lost the ability to breathe, because the soda had been at least half full, and now his brand new Macbook was sitting in a pool of Coke. 

Archie was back with a handful of toilet paper, frantically dabbing the spillage, and Jughead sat frozen, trying to remember if he saved the story to the cloud. What if he didn't? What if he'd lost nearly 50K words? 

"Archie." He managed through gritted teeth. The redhead was only making a bigger mess, struggling to staunch the river of soda soaking not just the Macbook, but the table too. "Archie, you idiot!" the words were popping from his lips before he could help it, but the boy didn't stop piling tissue paper on the mahogany surface. 

"I didn't mean it! Crap, is your laptop okay?"

A wave of anger hit him, a vicious wave seeping through his veins. "Does it look okay?" before Archie could make an even bigger mess, Jughead swept the sopping Macbook into his arms and moved it to the couch, his shaking hands grabbing tufts of toilet paper, attempting to dry the keyboard and screen. When Archie attempted to help, Jughead twisted around with a hiss. "Stop." he growled. "Do you even HAVE a brain, Archie?"

Various seniors hanging around the lounge turned to watch the confrontation, their interest piqued. Kevin Keller was already filming them, his lips pulled into a grin.

Archie's eyes flickered with hurt. "I didn't mean it." he said softly, before backing away, tripping over untied laces. And Jughead couldn't help rolling his eyes. His best friend was an idiot. Was it crazy that he preferred his novel's version of Archie? He was a lot smarter. Sure he was a psycho. But he was actually interesting, and didn't destroy Jughead's things. "I, uh- I'll leave you alone, okay? I really am sorry, Jug."

"Whatever." Jughead spat, turning back to what he was pretty sure was his broken Macbook. At the corner of his eye, Archie hovered for a few seconds, looking like he might speak, before seemingly deciding against it, and quickly making a break for it through the door. 

When Archie was gone, Jughead cleaned up most of the mess and set the laptop back on the table. The screen was black. The keyboard was sticky, and he didn't even want to look at the battery pack. Archie owed him a new goddamn laptop. Grimacing, he studied the back, finding wet spots. Though when he turned it back, the screen had flashed back on. 

Jughead blinked. Surely no. He hadn't even pressed the power button. But to his surprise, the screen was back to the galaxy background displaying his desktop. The tabs at the bottom were still open. Chrome, Sims 4, his emails, and Microsoft Word. 

A miracle, Jughead thought, swallowing hard. He tested the tracking pad, trying out the mouse. It worked. He tried the Chrome tab first, and the google search he'd been looking at the distance to and from Yale was still there. He tried typing into the Google search box, quivering fingers dancing across the keyboard, letters appearing in a string of gibberish. The cursor was flashing, he noticed. It didn't normally do that. Maybe it was to do with the water damage done to the screen. Holding his breath, Jughead clicked on the Microsoft Word tab, and something sharp zapped him, enough to elicit a sharp hiss he swallowed quickly. But apart from the mild shock, the page loaded up to where he'd been writing. The flashing cursor was situated in the middle of the paragraph.

He started to type again, just to test the keyboard properly, but was suddenly hit with an overwhelming sense of dread in waves; icy cold water overlapping him, pulling him under stormy currents. He lost his breath for a moment, and for a second Jughead swore the ground moved underneath him, as if it was trying to throw him off his feet.

Bile climbed up his throat. 

He had to get out. Whatever was wrong with him was ripping him apart inside, taking no cell mercy. A panic attack? Had he eaten something bad? 

Without thinking, he jumped up, cradling his laptop, and weaved through the lounge, stepping over kids with their legs stretched out, snoozing on the sofas. The exit doors were in sight, when he tripped, the laptop almost flying from his hands. By now his stomach was doing cartwheels, attempting to projectile itself through his mouth. Giving the room a wide berth, Jughead scanned for a waste paper basket, something he could barf in quickly and quietly. Because he was 95% sure there was no way he'd make it to the bathroom. His gaze was stuck to an empty plant pot sitting at the back of the lounge, when a blonde made her way into the room. There was nothing special about her. She was maybe a sophomore or a junior. But it wasn't the girl that caught his eye. 

She was holding a newspaper, and the headline jumped out at him, printed in bold on the front page: LOCAL CAT FOUND SAFE AND WELL. OWNERS THANK COMMUNITY FOR HELP. 

But the more Jughead stared at the words, they seemed to...blur. Change. Like they were dancing across the page. The chatter of his classmates around him drowned out, collapsing into white noise, apart from a tinny ringing in his ear. The headline on the paper was shifting in and out of existence, fading in and out, until different words appeared, this time much bolder. Swallowing thickly, he blinked. Had he been roofied? Jughead took two steps back, stumbling into the wall. He inhaled and exhaled, but still, it felt like his windpipe was blocked. There was no air getting into his lungs, and he was suffocating. 

GROTESQUE MURDER OF LOCAL PRINCIPAL. 

The student lounge seemed to shrink around him, and in the corner of his eye, the walls blurred, the surrounding bookshelves fluctuating. The sick feeling had disappeared, but a dull throbbing began in his temples, like someone was smashing a brick into his head. It must be a different teacher, he thought. But..there was only one high school in town. 

"Jughead?"

Not realising he'd staggered out of the student lounge, Jughead lifted his head, grimacing, to find himself on the corridor. Ethel Muggs was standing in front of him, and she looked a mess. Her usual bright eyes were much darker, lined with far too much eyeliner, her short bouncy curls frazzled and unbrushed. The girl was hugging a handful of papers to her chest. She was crying, he realised. Her cheeks and eyes smudged black. 

"Ethel. " Jughead managed to find his voice, attempting a smile. "Are you okay?" Squinting at her, he frowned. "Why are you crying?"

The girl curled her lip in disgust. "I know you weren't a fan of him, Jughead Jones, but you don't have to be so insensitive." 

Before he could reply, or question her, the girl was running off, sobbing, still clutching the papers to her chest. 

"Ethel!" He shouted, looking up, his gaze following her down the hall. But then his eyes were on the walls and lockers, even the floor. MISSING BOY. The words were hard to ignore. Jughead picked up a poster that was lying at his feet. 

HAVE YOU SEEN THIS BOY? 

Reggie. Jughead stared, but he wasn't seeing things. There was a grainy picture of Reggie Mantle grinning at the camera, his Letterman on display. 

But that was crazy. The poster slipped from Jughead's hands. He'd seen Reggie this morning. The boy had greeted him with his usual, "Sup dork." which was friendly for him these days. Jughead's head swam. With the newspaper headline of the murder of a "local" teacher, and Reggie's disappearance. It was too much of a coincidence. 

Both events had happened in his novel. 

Icy fingers slipped down his spine, and Jughead's mouth went dry. He'd written this. The headlines on the papers displaying Honey's brutal murder. Reggie Mantle going missing, and his face littering the halls of the school. Ethel Muggs sobbing for a boy she hated.

No. 

Jughead started to walk. Slowly. The ground felt wrong under his feet, every light above seemed to follow him, casting him in his own spotlight. His heart was in his throat. There was only one way of knowing if this really was happening. 

Veronica. His novels latest victim. Clutching the Macbook tighter to his chest, Jug dove into a run. He was halfway down the hall, when a warm hand slid over his mouth, strong arms wrapping themselves around his waist and yanking him backwards. In the struggle, the laptop dropped onto the floor with an audible crack, and in a moment of terror and confusion, Jughead forgot how to scream. Instead, all that came out of his mouth was a startled yelp. Though a shuddery laugh choked the words at the back of his throat.

The smell. Just like he'd described it. Dark chocolate musk, an autumnal scent drifting into his nostrils, choking him. 

"Relax, Jug." a familiar voice murmured in his ear, lips scathing the skin of his neck. Jughead shivered, almost falling into the embrace. But he snapped out of it quickly, struggling in Archie's bulging arms. "What the hell are you doing? Get off me!"

A blur of blonde, definitely a ponytail, seemed to blur in the corner of his eye. Betty. She was crouching on the ground, picking the laptop up, her giggles almost melodic. Seeing the two of them in school colours; blue and gold. Vixen and Bulldog. Just how he wrote them. Jughead panted, struggling in his best friend's viper grip which tightened. 

"Archie. Get the hell off me. Now."

He only got a chuckle in response. 

"I'm trying to feel you up, but you're suddenly fighting me on it. Not that I mind. What's gotten into you, hmm?" the boy nuzzled his neck, teasing his lips across burning skin, before his mouth landed on the shell of Jughead's ear. 

"We got her, Jug." His laugh was manic, blending in perfect symphony with Betty's giggles. Her ballet flats made tapping noises as she circled them, like a predator with prey. But this predator wore a skirt. A River Vixen cheerleader. His girlfriend. Who he had turned into a monster. She was still holding the laptop, blue eyes gleaming. But that's how he'd made her. Calculating and childish. Cold behind the eyes.

Archie's hot breath grazed his ear, and Jughead stopped struggling. Because he knew the boy liked it. "We put her in the trunk, didn't we Betty?"

Another dark laugh. "She's all yours."


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

hey there, is anyone still reading this? i have up to chap 4 written so i'll be updating sometime this week :')

comment if ur still reading! Thanks xx

additional notes: sorry about the Microsoft word mishap lol i don't use a mac but figured jug would use one. what i did during that scene was look at my own tabs and copy them :D hence the sims (im acc locked out of the sims rn i forgot my password welp)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so fuckin excited to write this. i want to write jug giving back what makes them Betty and Archie, but slowly starting to lose himself to his own character, ahhh. This is such a fun dynamic to explore. Review for more! And tell me what you think! Constructive criticism is much appreciated! <3


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